London Dynasty (The Dynasties Book 1)

by Geneva Lee

  “Good evening, Spencer. You look lovely—I mean, handsome, too,” I said flummoxed by the gentleman before me. Was this how he wanted to play it? Were we to pretend that nothing had happened yesterday? If that was what he had wanted, why go to the trouble of sending a note over to me? Why point it out?

  “Shall we?” he asked stiffly, crooking his arm.

  I accepted it, and we went silently up the stairs. Every inch of my body was aware of his presence. I’d spent last night imagining what it would be like to feel his hands on me, to have his weight crushing my body as he took me. But if Spencer felt a physical attraction to me, he showed no sign of it. He barely looked at me as we made our way to the party and his demeanor remained stiff and detached like he was simply another attendant sent to guide me into the house.

  As soon as we were through the double entrance doors, carved from solid wood, the scene changed from romantic tranquility to a crowded room buzzing with people. The foyer looked like it could fit half a row of mews inside it, and there were people everywhere. My hand gripped Spencer’s forearm a little more tightly, earning me a curious glance. He led me inside and I found myself trying to take it all in. If a mansion was impressive, one filled with rich and important people was even more so. Women dressed in elegant gowns, dripping with priceless jewelry, hung from the arms of men in tuxedos, sipping from champagne coupes. A string quartet played Mozart in one corner, and waiters wove through the crowd offering canapes and drinks. Before I could process the busy setting, Spencer pulled his arm away. I started, looking at him with a panicked expression and feeling as if my life raft had just been yanked out from under me.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I see my grandfather. I’ll find you in a moment.” He nodded his head at an older man with bushy white hair and a face lined with signs of age and frustration. I’d done enough homework on the Byrds, thanks to the internet and Giles, to know that the elder Byrd was a member of the House of Lords, a Duke, and one of the few remaining persons that held a hereditary seat in Parliament. He was in a sense a dying breed and judging by his age, I meant that quite literally.

  Spencer left me standing there, wondering exactly what to do. I was surrounded by strangers who all thought they knew me. A few heads turned my way and several people nodded hello. I returned the greetings, hoping no one came up and tried to talk to me.

  “You’re here!” an excited voice squealed to my right.

  I turned in time to see Evie’s bright smile as she threw her arms around my shoulders. “Mum sent Spencer to escort you in. Where is he?” She peeked around my shoulder as though he might be hiding there.

  “He went to speak with your grandfather,” I told her.

  “That cad! He left you here all alone?” She slipped her arm through mine and tugged me toward a nearby waiter.

  “I suppose he thought I could take care of myself.” And why wouldn’t he? It occurred to me that once again I needed to act as Kerrigan would. I shrugged, hoping I appeared nonplussed about being left to my own devices. “It’s been so long since I attended one of these. I’m dreading having to make boring small talk all night.”

  “This will help.” Evie swiped two glasses of champagne from the waiter’s tray and handed one to me. “The only perk of these blasted parties is drinking as much champagne as I can before my mother finds out.” She followed her confession with a small giggle.

  I tapped my crystal coupe to hers. “I’ll drink to that.”

  She lowered her voice so only I could hear her as she continued, “It’s even harder when half the men bring their new wives every six months. Just when I’m starting to remember names, they change again.”

  I seized on her innocent observation to turn it to my advantage. “Honestly, I don’t recognize half the people here.”

  “Well, there’s my brother and grandfather. No doubt, they’re talking about some political crisis. Oh, there’s your father!” She waved at him. Tod tipped his head in acknowledgment but raised a questioning eyebrow at me as he joined Spencer and Lord Byrd. “And there is Brock Quinn and his new girlfriend.”

  I followed her gaze to a powerful-looking man, surrounded by other important-looking men, and was surprised to discover his attention was acutely focused on the beautiful blonde at his side. The heat between them was palpable, even from a distance. I felt myself growing warmer as I watched them. Would a man ever look at me like that? As though he was torn between devouring me and protecting me?

  “They’re going to announce their engagement any day,” she guessed.

  “I don’t think we’ve met.” I kept my response purposefully vague, hoping Evie would continue to fill in the blanks.

  “He was her boss. Infamous bachelor. Now that he’s off the market, everyone is wondering which of his brothers will fall victim next.”

  “Victim?”

  “To love,” she said. “It’s obvious when you look at those two that they’re truly in love.”

  “How can you be sure?” I asked.

  “Because you see it so rarely around here. Everyone just marries to please their parents or secure a business deal. Well, that’s what first marriages are for on Billionaire’s Row.” She stopped chattering, and her hand flew to her mouth. Evie shook her head, loosening the blonde curls that had been pinned neatly up. “I’m so sorry. I hope I didn’t offend you. I know our parents have an understanding about you and…”

  “No offense taken,” I promised her. In all honesty, I was glad she saw through the games the people here played. Maybe it would save her from falling victim to one when she was older. “What exactly is—”

  Before I could finish my question, I spotted Tod Belmond striding toward me and I fell silent. A muscle ticked in his jaw and his lips were pressed together in a hard line. He was unhappy, and although I had no idea what I might have done, I knew I was to blame.

  “Excuse me, Evie,” I said softly. “I think my father needs a word.”

  She nodded, looking nervously between us, and whispered “good luck” before disappearing back into the crowd.

  Tod caught my arm, his fingers gripping my elbow tightly as he led me away from the party. I didn’t speak as he opened a pair of doors to an unoccupied solarium. When we were finally alone, he rounded on me. “What did you do? Five minutes with Spencer and you’ve ruined everything.”

  “Me?” I jerked in surprise, staring at him. “I didn’t do anything!” I racked my brain for some mistake I might have made—a glib comment or an insult—but came up with nothing.

  “Spencer just told me that he’s asked his grandfather to hold off on the announcement. He says he’s not ready to tell people that he’s engaged to you. So, I’ll ask again, what did you do?” Tod hissed before pacing the length of the room.

  I stood in mute shock for a moment. I hadn’t done anything to discourage Spencer. Not today, at least. He’d made no mention of yesterday at Hillgrove’s, but it had to be that. There was absolutely no way that I was going to confide the details of that event to Tod Belmond, though. “I really didn’t do anything. He escorted me inside and then excused himself to speak with his grandfather. I’ve barely spoken to him.”

  “What about this dress?” He gestured to my gown. “Perhaps, it’s too suggestive. Caroline mentioned that she asked you to wear white.”

  “Your daughter doesn’t have a lot of white in her closet,” I said, trying to stay calm while inside I was seething. Everyone wanted me to dress up and play pretend like I was a doll, but somehow it was my fault when the game went poorly.

  He pointed his index finger at me, brows raised, and leveled a command. “Fix this.”

  He didn’t wait for me to respond. Instead, he stormed away. I didn’t follow.

  The inside of the solarium was full of plants. Exotic ferns and flowers sat in pots on over-filled tables. The air was humid, warmer than the climate-controlled house, and stuffier than outside. The space had been cultivated into a lavish greenhouse rather than another showy living space. It
was clear that whoever kept it spent considerable hours tending to the plants. The only light inside the glass room came from the lights of the party which had spilled into the garden. I could hear laughter and conversation, too distant to make out. Outside people were having a good time, and I found myself dreading my eventual return to the champagne and gossip and curious eyes. Reaching out, I ran a finger down a large green leaf, its rubbery surface squeaking softly at my touch. Behind me, footsteps approached but I didn’t turn to see who had disturbed my temporary sanctuary. I knew by the way my body responded—as though it sensed him before it saw him. My nipples tightened, pushing against the fabric of my dress, my pulse quickened, and goosebumps rippled across my bare skin.

  “Monstera albo,” Spencer’s voice called. “It’s incredibly rare to see that depth of variegation.”

  “It’s different,” I murmured.

  “Different?” he repeated. “You don’t like it? It’s considered a beautiful specimen by most people who see it.”

  “Different can mean beautiful. I think it would be a disservice to dismiss it with such a general term as beautiful, though. Don’t you think?” I asked.

  There was a pause, and I wondered if I’d screwed up again. Obviously, I’d done something that had upset him or he wouldn’t have delayed announcing our engagement. When he finally spoke, his words were thick with meaning. “You aren’t what I expected.”

  “Is that why you’re having second thoughts?” I studied the leaf more closely, suddenly finding myself intensely interested in the nearby plants. I couldn’t bring myself to face him. I was afraid that away from the glittering lights and distractions of the soiree, he would see right through me.

  “I saw your father drag you off. I thought I should come and explain myself.” He reached out and took my hand. “It’s not second thoughts.”

  “But you don’t want to marry me,” I pressed. I needed to understand why. That was the only one I could fix.

  “Do you want to marry me?” He tugged gently on my hand, urging me around to finally look at him.

  The darkness cast shadows across his handsome face, making it impossible to read anything in his eyes. He had a drink in his hand and the heat of bourbon warmed his breath. I could smell it lingering on him. He was going to keep asking questions instead of answering mine, thus making it impossible for me to decide what the right answer was. That only left me one choice: honesty. “I don’t know.”

  Well, as honest as I could be. If I were Kerrigan, I wouldn’t be sure, even if I had committed to the arrangement. Isn’t that why she had run away?

  “Exactly,” Spencer said. I gawked at him for a second before composing myself. “How can we know?”

  “But you agreed to this,” I pointed out.

  “So did you,” he said.

  “What changed?” I asked. “Was it yesterday?”

  Even in the dimness, I spotted his confusion. “Yesterday.”

  I swallowed, feeling an anxious lump forming in my throat. “At Hillgrove’s when I accidentally...you know…”

  “I’m sorry I have no idea what you’re talking about, Kerrigan. I had business in the city all day.”

  “You had a lunch,” I stammered, wondering if I was losing my mind. “I was there with my stepmother and your mum and sister. You sent champagne. The note?”

  I couldn’t bring myself to raise the issue of what had happened in the loo. If I’d dreamed up the whole experience, the last thing I wanted was to confess that I’d had some sort of waking fantasy about getting off while he fucked another woman.

  “Hillgrove’s?” He snorted, shaking his head. “That bastard.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I was in the city, but trust Holden to be in the right place at the wrong time. My brother conveniently forgot to mention seeing you,” Spencer said. “Mother might have mentioned it, though. I’ll have a word with her.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to fit together all the puzzle pieces he’d just handed me with what Giles had told me about my fake fiancé. “Holden? Your brother? But why did he send me a note?”

  “That is a very good question,” Spencer admitted, studying my face. “You must have caught his attention.”

  I was suddenly grateful for the lack of light so that he couldn’t see me blush. I felt my cheeks heat.

  “We’re confused for one another all the time. That’s one of the reasons having an identical twin is a pain in the arse.”

  A twin. I found myself relieved and curious and strangely angry. I knew that Spencer had a sister and a brother, but no one had mentioned Holden was more than just his brother but his identical twin. It seemed like a fairly important detail to leave out.

  “What did his note say?” Spencer asked, cutting into my thoughts.

  “Nothing,” I said too quickly and his eyebrow shot up.

  “I see,” he said in a cold voice. “Of course, he would think it funny if he got to fuck you first.”

  “Excuse me?” I blurted out. Yanking my hand away, I stared at him, waiting for an apology.

  But he didn’t look remotely sorry. “Would you prefer to ignore the rather large elephant in the room?”

  “I’m not just some slot for you to stick your cock into,” I said angrily, ignoring the small voice that laughed inside me. Wasn’t that exactly what I was? Hadn’t I agreed to be just that? A placeholder until Kerrigan returned?

  His lips twitched at this, but his expression remained moody. “I’ve offended you.”

  “Yes.” An alarm went off in my brain but I ignored it. Now I was willfully disregarding the mission I’d been sent to perform, but I couldn’t help myself. I had expected Spencer to romance me a little, perhaps flirt, but he didn’t seem to care about any of those things. His expectations were clear. I’d already been bought for him. It was up to him to decide if he wanted to keep me.

  “Given that you agreed to our families’ wishes, I thought you were comfortable with being transparent about this situation.” He shrugged, emphasizing his strong shoulders. I fought the urge to grab hold of them and haul him toward me.

  Instead, I dug my heels in and shot him a haughty look. “Who said I was given a choice?”

  He paused, tilting his head, and then said the last thing I expected him to say, “I did. Why do you think I called off the announcement?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  My mind was spinning so quickly I was finding it hard to breathe. The humid air was stifling, leaving me feeling too hot and sticky. I refused to believe it was more than the greenhouse effect. But the truth was it was him. Spencer flustered me. He confused me. His motives were cryptic, given his directness about other issues, such as going to bed together. I didn’t know what to think of him.

  “But you expect to fuck me?” I struggled to bring the words to my lips, but my voice was clear and strong when I finally spoke.

  “I’ll admit that I didn’t think you would be so opposed to the idea, given that you’d agreed to marry me.” If I’d expected him to be angry, Spencer surprised me again by sounding amused. “Married people usually sleep together.”

  “But we aren’t married,” I hedged.

  “I had no idea you were so innocent.” He was definitely holding back laughter now. “Tell me, Kerrigan, are you a virgin?”

  I could tell what he thought of that possibility.

  Annoyance flared inside me along with a sensation that felt dangerously like arousal. “Does it matter? You seem to think my body belongs to you.”

  “And you seem to be under the impression that I’m going to force myself on you.” He moved closer, bringing his face into a shaft of moonlight, revealing an expression that bordered on interest. I had no doubt the wind would shift and he’d be back to his brooding boredom in no time.

  “Isn’t that how arranged marriages work?” It popped out of my mouth before I really thought about it. I wasn’t engaged to Spencer. The announcement I’d been dreading had been postponed. I was beginning to wonde
r if it would come at all.

  His eyes narrowed, his pupils so wide they looked almost black. “I don’t see a ring on your finger, Kerrigan.”

  “K,” I blurted out. “People call me K.”

  “I’m not most people. Nor am I looking for an arranged marriage with someone who thinks I’d force myself on her.” He tapped the edge of his glass and waited for me to respond.

  “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I just thought after…” I stopped short of letting another assumption slip.

  “Yes?” he prompted.

  “Nothing,” I said with a swallow. “‘I suppose none of this matters if you don’t want to marry me anymore.”

  “I didn’t say that. Regardless of your father’s concerns, I expect to move forward according to their wishes.” He paused, giving time for this to sink in. When I didn’t respond, he continued, “I simply want this to progress on our terms.”

  “What if our terms are different?”

  “I expect they will be, so let me be frank. If we’re going to marry each other, there are a few things we need to get clear on, Kerrigan.” He emphasized the name, letting each syllable drip suggestively off his wicked tongue. It made me wish it was mine. “This is a merger of two powerful families. We both need something from one another. I’m content to give your family the title and reputation your parents are after. Your family’s wealth will help shore up various estates that need a cash influx. In those ways, this is an arranged marriage. But I have no interest in forcing you to do anything but be a good wife.”

  My mouth went dry at the suggestion in those words. “And how will I do that?”

  “Smile. Be pretty. Hold a conversation in private and your tongue in public.” He paused as if giving me time to process this.

  “You assume we’ll go to bed together, but you don’t want to sleep with me? ” I asked in confusion. A ripple of displeasure rolled through me and landed between my legs. My traitorous body didn’t seem confused about this development. It seemed upset as if it had feelings and I was ignoring them. My skin wanted his hands on me. My thighs wanted his fingers to dip between them.